“Come here.” Richard pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me, keeping one hand on the back of my head and the other low on my back. He drops his face beside mine. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean that shit, okay?” he whispers while stroking my hair.
Sobs vibrate in my throat and rattle inside my chest. My tears soak into his shirt as arms that aren’t as strong as another’s comfort me when they should be pushing me away.
I can’t hold Richard back. I can’t tell him what I’ve done.
And when he asks if I love him with his lips against my ear, I can’t lie and tell him I don’t.
Like he said, we have roots in this.
I’ve only ever loved one man outside of my family. And Richard is it. He’s my first in a lot of ways. And you don’t easily let go of your first.
So I nod, not being able to say the words out loud, but instead, giving him my answer with my head buried in his chest.
He grips the back of my neck and brings his other hand between us to lift my chin, then he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me the way he always kisses me, slow and full of tongue and with lips that are familiar, and I force myself to kiss him back because this is the mouth I should be kissing. And when it feels off and not right, I grow determined and slide my hands to his neck to pull him closer. I roll up onto my toes, slant my mouth against his, and go for it.
“I’m having a real hard time not kissing you right now.”
I break away choking on a sob.
“Jesus, Ri,” Richard laughs as I wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand. “You trying to swallow my tongue or something?”
“Sorry,” I mumble, looking up at him.
I feel sick and disgusting. I feel ashamed.
And I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.
A half smile hits me with eyes that are ignorant to my disgrace. Richard pulls a strand of my hair between his thumb and two fingers, studies it, then bends down and runs his nose along my temple.
I hear him inhale and I panic, quickly stepping back and getting out of his arms.
I know who I smell like.
“I need to shower. I probably still have sand on me,” I lie, playing it up by brushing off my arms and the tops of my legs.
This time Richard lets me pass with a, “Cool, babe,” because he knows I’m not going to get my stuff.
Because I’m not moving out.
Because we’re still together.
Because we were never broken up.
We were never broken up.
I scramble into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Then, after yanking open the shower curtain and turning on the water, I tug my phone out of my back pocket and scroll to the number that was programmed in it this morning.
While I was in bed, naked, with a big charming man sprawled over me, smelling like a mixture of sweat and sex.
The same mixture that is currently clinging to my skin.
“Tully.”
I turn away from the door and wipe at my face.
“It’s me,” I reply, keeping my voice down just in case.
“Jesus,” CJ murmurs. “Your voice on the phone is hot as shit, darlin’. Say something else to me.”
“I can’t do this.”
There’s a pause, then a breathy laugh breaks through the line. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” he says before exhaling forcefully. “Right. Is this your nerves getting to you again? What’d I say about that?”
“No,” I answer. “It’s not my nerves.”
“Then what the fuck happened?”
I begin pacing the small room, going back and forth between the toilet and the door as I explain.
“We weren’t broken up. I thought we were but we weren’t. We were on a break, I guess, but that isn't the same thing. We’re still together. And I . . . slept with you. I slept with you when I had a boyfriend back at home.”
“Did more than just sleep with me,” CJ points out.
I close my eyes for a breath. “I know. But I wouldn’t have done that if I thought Richard and I were still together. I’m not like that. I’m not that kinda girl. I swear.”
My lip starts trembling again. I press my fingertips to it and bite back tears.
“I know that. I never thought you were, babe,” he says. His voice is rougher now. “So what are you telling me? Are you staying with this guy?”
“I have to.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” CJ growls. “Is he forcing you to stay? Give me your address. I’m thirty minutes out.”
“No. That’s not what I meant. He’s not forcing me,” I quickly reply.
Sheesh. He sounds ready to kill.
I stop in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection. My eyes are red and puffy and glistening with tears. “It’s just, we’ve been together for a long time and I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of that yet,” I confess.
I watch my lips form my next words.
“I love him.”
CJ breathes tensely in my ear. “Hope it works out,” he mutters.
“Really?” I ask, frowning.
“Don’t ask me that shit. And what the fuck do you want me to say?”
God, he’s right. What am I doing?
“Sorry,” I rush out. “Sorry. That was stupid. I just, I can’t believe this happened.” I hold my hand to my cheek and shake my head, looking down at the sink.
“I’m gonna let you go,” CJ says, talking about the phone call. I’m sure of it.
“Wait, um.” I flatten my hand on the counter. My bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t tell anyone what happened this weekend. Okay? Please. Especially not Reed. I don’t want it getting back to Richard.”
“You’re not telling him?”
I shake my head as if he can see me. My silence gives me away.
“That’s on you, babe,” CJ points out. “Kinda fucked up if you ask me, but you’re not asking.”
“I’d rather just pretend it didn’t happen,” I return. “And I think it would be best if we forget about each other . . . in that way. You know?”
“Yeah. That’s not happening.”
I lift my eyes to my reflection again and watch my brows pull together. “Uh . . . sorry, what?”
CJ clears his throat, then goes on to elaborate. “You can forget about me in that way all you want, or you can try and convince yourself that’s what you’re doing but I’m telling you now, Riley, I am not forgetting you. I got a taste of something I want more of and a taste like that, babe, there’s no forgetting.”
I pinch my eyes shut. I don’t want my cheating heart to start warming right now but that’s exactly what happens.
I try my best to ignore it.
Shaking my head, I return my gaze to the mirror. “I don’t really know what to say to that,” I admit, giving him my honesty.
“You don’t need to say anything. I’m just letting you know how it is,” CJ retorts. “Now, you making a choice means I need to back off, and even though I’m not feeling that choice, I’ll respect it.”
“Thank you.” I smile a little, liking his attitude about this. “And I’d really like us to stay friends.”
“Now you’re pushing it.”
My smile disappears and I’m back to frowning. “Huh?”
“I don’t do that,” he throws out.
“You don’t do what?” I question with a little sass.
He better not tell me he doesn’t have female acquaintances. Beth and him are tight. I know this for a fact.
“I don’t keep friends with women who have had my dick in their mouth,” CJ shares.
Oh . . .